


Your hand in mine

by orphan_account



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Canon Gay Character, Fix-It, Gay, M/M, Moonlight, One Shot, Post-Finale, Smoking, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-05 04:28:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10297532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Taking place between Dennis' deciding to leave and the gang blowing up the SUV. Mac and Dennis have a brief tender exchange.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like we were robbed of a little moment of tenderness between Mac and Dennis 'big feelings' Reynolds so here's a little something I would have liked to have seen in the finale.
> 
> I straight up nicked the title from the Explosions in the Sky song of the same name. For added suffering listen to the song whilst reading the fic.

Mac ran his fingertips over the dashboard of the car, the delicate grain of the leather caressing the ridges of his fingerprints. He breathed in heavily and rested his palm flat on the dash; He glanced at the void in the driver’s seat and pulled his hands into his lap. He ran his fingers over his knuckles; his skin was dry and it creaked with the movement. He slid deep into the chair until his knees hit the glove box. His warm breath rose, misting the windows. The Philadelphia streetlights illuminated the inside of the car; the droplets of condensation rolled down the windows soaked in streetlight.

The hairs on Mac’s forearms prickled in the cold. He thought he might as well turn on the heating _. If he ran the battery down in Dennis’ car was he less likely to leave? Right_ _?_ He squirmed in his seat and pulled the key of out his back pocket. He had it copied for emergencies. If Dennis found out he would straight up kill Mac, but Mac didn’t care anymore.

He jammed the key into the ignition, twisting it vigorously, trying to find the bite. Mac couldn’t understand why Dennis was so protective of this piece-of-shit car. The paintwork was damaged, the interior smelt like spoiled milk and it took a miracle for it to turn on. He leant over further and jiggled the key harder. The car sputtered into life, the radio crackled from its dormancy It got louder and louder until it reached its tinny apex. Mac twisted the volume knob to no avail. Instead of getting quieter, the music just jittered.

“God damn it Dennis, all this new wave femme shit -- why do you like it?” Mac muttered to himself whilst sinking back into the passenger seat.

The music petered out to a dull symphony. Mac recognised the poppy meaningless bullshit that Dennis loved so much; he recognised the whine of Debbie Harry’s voice against the backdrop of 70’s electronic music.

_‘Denis Denis, oh with your eyes so blue …Denis Denis, I've got a crush on you.’_

Mac scoffed half-heartedly.

“God, I hate this crap,” he mumbled through a constrained smile, visibly flustered. As much as he resented this crap he would miss shitting on Dennis about his music. Like Dennis’s stubborn attachment to the dilapidated Range Rover, he liked the crutch of Dennis’s predictably poor taste.

Mac kind of liked how the song dipped in and out of French and English and he knew that was exactly what Dennis liked about it too. For different reasons, of course; Dennis liked pretending to like French things. For Mac the sections of French felt like a minor relief from the lyrics that kind of hit too close to home. Not that he’d ever admit that to Dennis. It was awkward just admitting it to himself.

A soft knock pattered on the window.

“Mac, dude, let me in.”

Mac flinched and looked out at Dennis, who was crouching to look in at Mac. He rapped his knuckle on the window again.

Mac waited in the cold car. The silence between the tracks of the Blondie tape and the taps of Dennis’ knocks was deafening.

A few long seconds passed. Mac figured Dennis could wait a few more.

“Mac, you goddamn son of a bitch, let me in my own goddamn car!”

Mac rolled his eyes and moved slowly across the car to let Dennis in. He hooked his finger under the latch of the handle and tugged it slowly.

“Mac, I know what you’re doing.” Dennis kneed the side of the Range Rover.

Mac hauled himself back into the passenger seat whilst Dennis slid in on the driver’s side, pulling the door closed behind him. The latch bounced open again. Dennis slammed the door repeatedly until an audible click was heard.

“It’s been like that since we almost drowned it,” Dennis said softly.

“Yeah, this car is really a piece of shit, Den.”

Dennis scowled, breathed heavily and placed his hands on the steering wheel.

“So… Blondie, huh?”

Mac scoffed and Dennis pushed the tape out of the deck and held it in his lap.

Mac followed Dennis’s lead and placed his hands in his lap. He turned to Dennis and scanned his face, only half-illuminated by moonlight. His eyes darted across the angles of Dennis’ expression He looked tired. His skin was thin and translucent. The harsh streetlights bathed the thin lines on his face. Dark circles engulfed his once-piercing eyes, which had begun to dull as of late. It was like suddenly all the years of damage came to a summit in that car.

Dennis glanced over at Mac. He averted his eyes and stared at his hands.

“Dude, can you pass me those cigarettes in the glove box?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

Mac rifled through the glove box, carefully pushing aside the ripped lining. He threw the tattered box of Marlboro Lights and the lighter in Dennis’ lap. Dennis scrolled the window down a crack and lit the cigarette. He daintily rested his knuckle against the window and let the smoke dance out into the night.

The smell of cigarette smoke and gasoline took Mac back to the summer before Dennis left for Penn. He remembered crackling fire that burned in his stomach and the feeling of unrelenting longing tied to his best friend, moonlight pouring into the parked car.  A similar burn flickered in his gut now, but this time it was intertwined with a feeling of finality. He wasn’t looking at Dennis with the same idealistic pining for the future. He understood his feelings this time around.

Dennis took a long final drag of his cigarette and flicked the butt out of the window. He cranked the window shut again; it squeaked loudly as it went.

Maybe this was for the best. Maybe it was time for Mac to move on, too. Like Dennis hung on to the old reliability of the Range Rover, he hung on to Mac as well. _Old Mac due for an upgrade._

“Mac, I love this car more than any person or anything I’ve ever loved,” Dennis said, interrupting Mac’s train of thought.

“Why, dude? It’s a piece of shit.”

“You know when you’re just… tied to _something_. When you’d do anything for… _something._ ”

Mac grimaced. _That’s a lot to think about a car. A car._

“Okay, yeah, sure, fair enough,” Mac mumbled sarcastically. He sighed and looked out of the window, absent-mindedly resting his hand on the gear stick.

He caught Dennis’ reflection in the window. He sat solemnly gazing straight ahead, the muscles in his neck were taught and stressed. Dennis toyed with the Blondie tape that was till in his lap. Mac watched his nimble fingers work over the archaic object. Dennis had always used tapes ever since high school. He said that he liked the physical feel of the music in his hands. Mac began to think that it was that they let him hang on to his youth in the slightest of ways.

“Can you look after it for me?”

“Huh?” Mac turned towards Dennis again.

“The _car_?” Dennis whispered, his voice raising at the end.

“Yeah, _whatever_ , dude.” Mac rolled his eyes.

“Mac, you have to understand me. I love this car more than anything and I want it to be here whe… if I come back to Philly.”

Mac was still looking out of the window.

Suddenly, he felt a soft, warm grip on the hand he had rested on the gear stick. He felt Dennis’s long fingers close against his cold palm. He left their hands entwined for an instant that felt like an eternity. He squeezed again and Mac let out a small whine.

“I want this car waiting for me when I get back, Mac.”

Mac turned hesitantly in his seat and met Dennis’s gaze. Dennis’s face was aged and warm; the usually pinched muscles around his face were relaxed and open. He leaned into the moonlight that was bathing Mac’s side of the car. Mac tried to hide a small smile, poorly.

“Yeah, I think I get you.”

Dennis clasped his other hand around Mac’s, engulfing his hand between his own, and squeezed.

“Okay,” Dennis said, and exhaled.

He squeezed Mac’s hand one last time before he slid out of the car, leaving Mac alone again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank-you to everyone who helped beta this fic!  
> mxingno, howlinglight & ambrollins - I owe you!
> 
> My tumblr is poppinsthedog I'm always up for chatting it's always sunny!!


End file.
